


Imperfect Design

by xcrstfallenstrx



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcrstfallenstrx/pseuds/xcrstfallenstrx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s life is going perfectly according to plan.  Fabulous rent stabilized apartment in a desirable neighborhood.  Amazing girlfriend he plans to marry.  He’s landed an audition for a regular gig at the most popular Jazz bar in the city.  All things considered, he’s living a charmed life.  What more could a retired Army vet ask for? </p>
<p>But… the audition doesn’t go according to plan.  </p>
<p>On his well established path to happiness he suddenly finds himself at a fork in the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to ‘Before We Go’ and Chris Evans (as director) for inspiring the video that led to this FF. Great movie.
> 
> Bucky’s Character was inspired by a combination of Bucky Barnes, TJ Hammond, Jack Benjamin, and Ben. All characters portrayed by Sebastian Stan. Steve’s character was inspired by Steve Rogers and Nick Vaughan. Obviously, all characters portrayed by Chris Evans.
> 
> Peggy is Peggy only in name here. Since this FF was inspired by an AU video, in my head I see her as the girl in the video.
> 
> The video that inspired this FF can be found here:  
>  [Steve Bucky SLASH - Stucky – AU – Imperfect Design](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwF9ZxIXY-A)
> 
> There is now also a video for the time between the end of the FF and the end of the Epilogue.  It can be found here:
> 
> [Steve Bucky SLASH - Stucky – AU – Imperfect Design: Epilogue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ke0PYqeqY4M)
> 
> All my videos for this pairing can be found here:  
>  [My Stucky Collection](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLu6cxfqCMO9kZpHy8UYfOoXESOL2Uvs9x)

**Prologue**

What is it they say about best laid plans?

They oft go awry?

Steve was a military brat destined to be a lifer, just like his father. Then… then he turned fourteen and walked into Fractured Beats for the first time. It’s rare to be able to pinpoint the exact moment you start walking a new path. These things are generally a sum rather than any one particular event. That day he learned two things about himself. Monumentally important things.

1) Nothing had ever touched his soul like Jazz.  
2) He was attracted to women and men.

At fourteen, the first wouldn’t affect him for a few more years. The second on the other hand, immediately changed everything he had ever thought he knew about himself. The boy behind the counter was a few years older than him. His hands were delicate, his fingers long and slender. His platinum blonde hair curled at his nape, and too long bangs fell into green eyes the color of a kiwi.

His voice was shy and gentle when he’d asked, ‘How can I help you?’. He couldn’t speak at first, the knot in his stomach resting happily now in his throat. After gathering his wits and the silence had passed into awkward, he approached the counter and said, ‘I walk past here every day and I was curious, so… I guess I’m browsing’. It came out more like a question.

And so began his education in both Jazz and what it felt like to be with a man.

They spent the summer together, and though it never went beyond kissing he went into his freshman year feeling like he knew a secret no one else knew. His sophomore year he took up the trumpet. By his junior year he knew he would rather play than shoot a gun. But…

A plan is a plan is a plan.

He enlisted right after graduation and after four gloriously long years of service, he came home. He started college immediately, finally discovering all the things Jacob hadn’t been able to teach him. His junior year he met Peggy, and he felt lucky to have found her. She loved Jazz as much as he did, and where his parents condemned his choices, she supported his dreams. She saw what they couldn’t, a natural gift.

By graduation he had honed it to perfection, and they moved in together. His life was going perfectly according to plan. Turn his passion into a career. Find someone to live happily ever after with. Find a reasonably priced apartment near the center of the city, and if you live in New York City, you know this is like finding Pegasus in the stables at the race track. At just 28 two out of three wasn’t bad.

Tomorrow… tomorrow he was swinging for the fences. He had an audition for a regular gig four nights a week at the most popular Jazz bar in New York City. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. He was going to land it.

Nothing was going to stop him…


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

“I’m sorry Steve, you guys are extremely talented, but you just aren’t what we’re looking for.”

“Thank you so very much. It’s an honor, Sir. Wait, what?” he asked, confusion evident, as his head whipped to the left. They’d just played their asses off, and he had heard all the other acts. None of them even came close. It wasn’t vanity, it was reality.

“I haven’t heard trumpet like that since I saw Chet Baker in Amsterdam in ’82. We really want you guys, but you need a more complete ensemble,” the bar owner, Bruce, said.

“What does that mean,” he replied.

“You need a pianist. Call me if you find someone,” Bruce said as he handed him his card.

Steve watched him walk away and shook his head. Peggy looked just as surprised as he felt.

Where the hell was he going to find a pianist good enough to join them that wasn't already in a band?  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I really don’t feel like going, Peggy,” he said as he plopped down onto the couch. He was still down in the dumps after not landing that audition yesterday. His dream was getting farther and farther away.

She stopped buttoning her coat, came over, and left a tender kiss on his forehead. “You need to get out of the house and have a little fun, Steve. Take your mind off all of this. You’ll think of something, you always do.”

He nodded, “Alright, alright. I’m coming,” he told her, and grabbed his jacket.

As they made their way to the bar arm-in-arm, the night air was crisp. It was refreshing, and he hated to admit it, but she’d been right. He was feeling better already. Colored lights were strung up inside the bar, giving it a cheery feel. He held the door open for her, and stepped inside. He looked around for Tony and Clint. When Tony spotted him, he grabbed Clint’s arm, and dragged him over.

Tony it seemed was in high spirits. Clint on the other hand, looked like someone had cut off his arm, and he'd never touch his bass again. “Steve, man, you’ve got to lighten up. It’s not the end of the world.”

Clint shook his head. Tony wasn’t like them. Guitar was a hobby for him. Yes, he was one of the best guitarists he’d ever had the pleasure to play with, but he came from money. Clint, like him, only wanted to play music. That was all he had ever wanted, and a regular gig would have gone a long way towards supporting his wife and kids.

He left Peggy with them to catch up, and headed over to the bar. He ordered a beer for each of them, and while he waited, he looked around. 8.5 million people in this city. Where the hell was he going to find this fantasy pianist?

He was starting to sulk again…

Bill Evans started to play overhead, and he smiled. Ironic. Even here he couldn't escape his failure last night. Evans was his all time favorite Jazz pianist. He was lilting and lyrical sometimes, but when he played with Paul Motian and Scott LaFaro, their chemistry was undeniable.

He titled his head letting his right ear reach for the music, he couldn't help it. ‘I Do It For Your Love' was one of his favorite pieces. He had never heard it more beautifully played. He’d have to ask the DJ what cut this was. He was about to return to his friends, but… something was… wrong? This approach was too light-handed to be Bill Evans.

He moved around the bar, and stopped cold. This was fucking impossible. There at a piano was probably the prettiest man he’d ever seen. All black suit, black silk tie, his sleeves rolled up, and two jackets resting over the bench to his left. His fingers didn’t press the keys, they caressed them. He gave the final big finish, and then turned to the audience to acknowledge their applause.

He’d never seen _anyone_ play the piano with more passion. At least not in person, he’d been too young to see any of the greats live, and he was too shocked to clap with them. The clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen looked right at him, his smile landed somewhere between ecstatic and seductive. The pianist raised his glass to him, well in his general direction anyway, and said, “My final piece tonight will be ‘The Two Lonely People’. Thank you again, as always, for coming.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky tried to really make this one something to remember. He seemed to have impressed the nerd chic hottie with the blue eyes and beard in the audience, and he wanted to keep it up. He’d never seen him in here before, but he wanted to make sure he came back. Yes, he had a boyfriend, but eye candy, especially that fine, was always welcome.

After his set, he headed towards the bar to chat with David, the bartender/best friend, who’d also gotten him the gig here. David smiled, “You, my friend, have a _fan_ ,” he said. Bucky smiled, there was always one or two, but he’d been with Sean for over a year, and it was serious. “He bought you a drink,” he said as he handed him a snifter.

Bucky raised the glass to his nose, and took a long sniff, two fingers of Blanton’s neat. “You told him my drink?” he asked.

“Of course,” David replied, “He was hot.”

“Who…” he began, but was interrupted by a warm hand landing on his shoulder, and a velvety voice in his ear. As he inhaled the scent of Coolwater, he felt his knee give just a bit as breath wafted over his ear, and David gave him a wink. He wasn’t Sean’s biggest fan.

“Good. You got the drink,” the voice said. He turned, and was pleasantly surprised to find Nerd Chic. His shirt was blue and white check plaid with a solid black tie, paired with a navy blue v-neck knit sweater with a folded collar. “Steve, Steve Rogers,” he said and held out his hand.

“Bucky Buchanan,” he replied, intentionally leaving his last name out of the equation. He didn’t enjoy the attention his father’s name gave him. Truthfully, he preferred ‘Bucky’ anyway. Sean always called him James though. He thought ‘Bucky’ was immature.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, and he nodded. “Well, Bucky, I have a proposition for you,” he said, and though he was with Sean, the idea was titillating. Steve obviously spent time focused on his body, he could see it clearly, even through the heavy layers of his clothes, and he let the idea wash over him briefly.

“Have you heard of Wells Whiskey Drop?” he asked.

“Of course,” Bucky replied. There wasn’t a Jazz musician in this city that hadn’t. “Shame about Duke Terry. I loved their set. I went twice a week. I’m also totally thrilled for them.” And he genuinely was. A record deal was what they were all dreaming about.

“We…” he began as he gestured to the two men to his left, Bucky recognized one of them, Tony Stark, but he wouldn’t recognize him, he hadn’t seen him since high school. “…just auditioned for their set actually.”

“Wow. Congratulations,” Bucky said in surprise, it wasn’t easy to land an audition there. They only accepted the cream of the crop, and Duke Terry’s set had been four nights a week. It was the best slot. “How’d it go?” He couldn’t help but ask. He was the tiniest bit jealous on a personal level, but professionally, he was pleased for them.

“Not… great. The spots ours if we… well… we’re looking for a pianist,” he said.  
Bucky felt his heart start to pound, “Really?”  
“Would you be interested?” he asked, with a sparkle in his aqua eyes. He already knew.  
“Seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously,” he replied and added emphasis to it by squeezing his forearm gently. “So… you in?” His smile was roguish, with dimples the size of quarters. How could he say ‘no’?

“I’m in,” Bucky said, energy circulating under his skin. He’d never sleep tonight.

He’d never had any desire to play in a group before, too many complications, but this was the opportunity of a lifetime. Steve captured his attention like no other man ever had, and that made things byzantine, as expected. He was also clearly enamored with his girlfriend, so that should help keep his feet resting where they needed to be, firmly on the ground, lest his imagination run away with him.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They’d agreed to meet at Bucky’s at 10a.m. to see if they had chemistry. It didn’t matter how good Bucky was if they had no synergy as a group. He was looking forward to it. However, he hadn’t planned on going so far up town, and was worried he’d be late.

He ran out the door, without saying goodbye, and put his trumpet over his shoulders as he ran to the subway. He just made the stop stepping on right before the doors began to shut. He pulled out his trumpet and warmed up a bit. A woman in her late fifties took a few bills and some change, and placed them in a cup, leaving it on the seat next to him before she got off. He smiled as a few other riders left him money as they got off too.

When he got off, he put the money in his pocket, tossed the cup in the trash, and took the stairs two at a time. It was 9:52. He had eight minutes, so he jogged up the street. When he got to Bucky’s building he stopped short. _Holy shit_ , he thought. This was the kind of place you couldn’t get into unless you were on Tony’s level.

Clint and Tony were waiting for him, and together they entered the building as the doorman held the door for them. Steve walked over to the security counter, but was waived forward, “Mr. Barnes is expecting you. Go right up, top floor, end of the hall,” he said, and Steve stepped into the elevator in a fog.

“Barnes? Why does that sound so familiar? Hmm…” Tony asked, but Steve paid him no mind. He was lost in his own thoughts.

As they approached the last door in the hallway a decently built blonde haired man in a navy suit stepped out. Bucky came into view, perfect smile, azure eyes glistening, russet hair rumpled and resting over his eyes, bare feet, silver toe ring, low slung blue jeans, and a well worn t-shirt just the smallest bit too short. When he stood on tip-toes to kiss his visitor goodbye, it went up revealing his lower abs, hip bones, and well trimmed happy trail. Steve’s breath caught. This kid was sex on a freaking stick, and it was 100% unintentional.

The kiss was erotic in a way a goodbye kiss shouldn’t be. There was no tenderness there, it was pure passion. It was strangely fitting to what he had seen of Bucky last night. He was almost jealous as he watched a large had cup his butt, and the second found a pale hip, the thumb making small circles there.

When they stepped apart, they both finally seemed to notice them. They’d been completely lost in each other. Bucky smiled awkwardly, and the other man moved between them, the gesture was more possessive then protective, and Steve bristled. _I know I know this guy. Where do I know him from_ , he asked himself.

“Steve,” Bucky said with a smile in his voice. He put a hand on the guys arm, and stepped around him. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home guys.”

“I’ll call you later, James,” the guy said, left one more kiss on his cheek, and looked Steve up and down as he passed him.

“See you Tuesday, Sean,” Bucky said. His smile was warm as he waved them inside. “You going to stand in the hallway all day?” he asked.

His smile was infectious. He was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly excited. He ushered them inside, and pointed them to the left. “Coffee, fruit, croissant?” he asked.

They all agreed that coffee would be nice, and he disappeared to the right, leaving them to make their way in the other direction. He didn’t watch him go. He didn’t. The living room was spacious, with real hardwood floors, high ceilings, floor to ceiling windows on one wall, and a baby grand nestled into the far left corner.

 _Who the hell is this kid_ , he asked himself, taking it all in again, noticing for the first time the mixed white suede and black leather sectional, black marble coffee table, and hand knotted rug two steps down from the rest of the room. There was a 60’ flat screen mounted above the limestone fireplace, candles everywhere, dark sculptures placed strategically around the room, and the art on the walls weren’t reprints. The room felt masculine, but there was also a sensuality to it. Bucky couldn’t be any more than 22 or 23.

He walked over to the mantle above the fireplace. Pictures of Bucky, and this guy Sean were everywhere. It was obviously serious, but there was something about him that just rubbed Steve the wrong way. It wasn’t his nature to assume the worst about people, so he chalked it up to concern. He’d had an immediate affinity for Bucky. There was an innocence in him that made Steve want to protect him.

There were chairs already set up by the piano, so he pulled off his coat, and made his way over to join Clint and Tony. They were talking in hushed whispers, “What’s up,” he asked them as he set his trumpet down and started to unzip his case.

“You didn’t recognize him?” Tony asked.  
“Who?” Steve asked; distracted by what he was doing.  
“The guy who just left,” Clint said.

“That was Sean Reeves,” Tony said. When he just shrugged in response, Tony looked exasperated. “Sean Reeves? The fucking Senator?”

Now _that_ caught his attention. He didn’t know of any senators who were out. Just as he was about to reply Bucky walked in with a tray. It was set with four cups, one already filled, a carafe of coffee, sugar, plain creamer, milk, and his personal favorite, French Vanilla creamer. He poured a small bit of the French Vanilla into his cup, and then added coffee. When he looked up, Bucky was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“Exactly the way I make mine,” Bucky said, taking another sip of his coffee, and walking over to his piano. He played a few scales as they got their coffee, and got settled.

“Where do you want to start,” Clint asked, settling his bass between his legs.

“How about ‘My Funny Valentine’,” Steve suggested. The three of them new it by heart, and if Bucky was worth his salt, which he was sure he was, he would too, or he’d have the sheet.

“Perfect,” Bucky said and started to play the opening slowly, letting them find the time, and then picking up once they had joined him.

He played the notes from a place he had never felt before. It was like he was exploring Jazz for the first time all over again. When the song ended, he opened his eyes, though he didn’t remember closing them, in surprise, as he heard clapping and a wolf whistle. Clint and Tony were standing by their coffee mugs with huge grins.

He raised an eyebrow at them, “What the hell?” he asked.  
“What the hell?” Clint asked. “Are you crazy? That was incredible!”

“We’ve never heard you play like that, man,” Tony said. “We stopped playing halfway thru just to listen. That was the way Chet Baker _meant_ it to be played. Nothing but soul.”

“You guys are on another level, man. That gig is ours,” Clint said.

He looked at Bucky who was smiling shyly. He didn’t remember the whole thing; he’d lost himself to the music, playing from his soul, as Tony had said. They played a few more songs together, and went their separate ways, agreed that they were a perfect quartet. Steve called Bruce, and when he asked what night they could come out to audition, Steve said _Tuesday_.

He didn’t think too much on the decision as he stepped onto the subway, and headed for home.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**  
_**Three Months Later…** _

They were drawing a bigger and bigger crowd every week. Word was spreading, and Steve had never been happier. Now that he had a regular income beyond what he was making as a tutor, he’d started browsing for engagement rings. When their set was over, Clint headed for home. His wife rarely made it out, choosing instead to stay home with the kids. Tony, as usual, headed for the groupies, tab already opened. He looked around, and found Bucky in a corner looking at his phone. His eyes were sad, and it immediately poured cold water over his high spirits.

Over the last few months he’d finally begun to understand Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes was the son of a former president, and his mother was currently Vice President. His parents had gotten divorced when he was young, and when his father died of a heart attack, he had inherited everything. It explained his seeming affluence, though he was actually 26, not 22 as he had originally believed, and why he went by Bucky Buchanan. Money often attracted the wrong kind of people.

He’d been wrong about a lot of other things too. Bucky’s flirty smile and gregarious personality made him come across as a good time party boy. In truth, he was intelligent, funny, and emotionally sensitive in a way men rarely were. He was gentle, generous to a fault, and his heart pure. He’d spent his childhood sheltered by his parents, and still carried that naivety with him. The desire to protect him had only gotten stronger over time.

_Sean_ , he thought with a shake of his head as he made his way over. “You okay, Bucky?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“I’m… Sean promised me he would come tonight. He didn’t even bother to text me,” he said.

Steve was amazed Bucky continued to have such high expectations for Sean, the result of such a pure heart. The guy was a scumbag. He’d come to discover that Sean Reeves had a wife and two kids. “He probably just got caught up,” he said. He wanted to punch the guy every time he pulled this shit, but he wasn’t the one who had to watch Bucky’s face fall.

Bucky looked up at him, watching him so very closely, it was unnerving. His smile was wide, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You are such a fantastic guy, Steve. Shame they didn’t make more like you,” he said. “Broke the mold I guess. It’s very sweet of you to say, but we both know he didn’t come because he didn’t want to be seen _with_ me. I get it, I do, I just…”

He looked lost. Steve had never heard him say one bad word about Sean before. “How about…” he began as he picked up Bucky’s jacket and held it open for him, “…I treat you to like the biggest brownie sundae ever?”

Bucky slid into his jacket, and smiled, “That would be great.”

After waving goodbye to Tony, they headed over to a small 24-Hour diner with great brownies. This was a ritual they had repeated often. He watched Bucky with a soft smile as he indulged, while telling him about the summer he turned 15. He laughed often. He always did when he was with Bucky. He was enigmatic, and he drew you in. You didn’t just hear what he was telling you, you saw and felt it. Bucky slid the giant bowl his way with a mischievous smile, and he helped himself to some of the ice cream.

When Bucky was finished, and some of the smile had finally returned to his eyes, they made their way outside. His apartment was ten blocks away, but he insisted on waiting with Bucky for a cab. He wasn’t about to leave him standing alone on a street corner at 2a.m. He had to be up in three hours to drop Peggy off at the airport for a 7a.m. flight to London, but he _wouldn’t_ leave Bucky. It wasn’t safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve flagged down a cab for him, and gave the driver his address. He held the door open for him, and then closed it gently behind him. The cab made a three-point-turn, and headed in the opposite direction. He turned around to watch Steve walk away until he disappeared behind a hill.

_The good ones are always taken_ , he thought with a sigh as he settled into his seat. They just didn’t make guys like Steve anymore. It was like someone pulled him out of the 1940’s and dropped him in present day New York. He was a real gentleman, and the better he got to know Steve, the more obvious Sean’s flaws became. Steve had insisted on waiting with him, and though he had protested, he didn’t put up much of a fight. He enjoyed his company. Too much. He was falling for him.

When he pulled up in front of his building, he paid the driver, as his doorman opened the cab door for him. He held out a hand for Bucky, and helped him out of the cab. He was new. He had started two weeks ago, and his nametag labeled him ‘Joseph’. He hadn’t missed the way Joseph looked at him, he was adorable, but he wasn’t interested. He already had more than enough going on where his feelings were concerned.

He got into the elevator, and as he rode up, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took out his phone, and looked at the screen. Sean. He didn’t want to answer. He was still floating on the cloud he was always on when he was with Steve. He put his phone back into his pocket, as he stepped out of the elevator.

When he got to his apartment the door opened, and he stopped short in surprise. Sean seemed just as startled as he was. It didn’t last long. Sean pulled him into the living room closing and locking the door behind him. Before he could say anything Sean was all over him. He stripped him at the door, carried him to the bedroom, and dropped him on the bed. There was no finesse. It was rushed, cold, and impersonal. He didn’t feel like a lover, he felt like a whore.

When Sean had finished, he rolled over, pressed Bucky’s back to his front, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “So… where were you tonight,” Sean asked, making no attempt to hide the accusation in his tone.

Bucky pushed his arm off, and sat up. “Where was I? Are you kidding me? Where the fuck were you?” he demanded.

Sean sat up, surprise written on his face. Bucky had never been confrontational with him before, but he certainly knew how. Both of his parents had been attorneys before they became politicians, and he couldn’t remember a day of his childhood where there wasn’t arguing.

“I was here, waiting for you, while you were off doing god knows what,” Sean said as he shot off the bed, and started to get dressed.

“You would know where I was if you had showed up like you were supposed to, Sean,” he said as he wrapped a robe around himself.

“Oh please, James.”  
“Bucky,” he said calmly.  
“What?”  
“My name is ‘Bucky’. Even my mother calls me ‘Bucky’, Sean.”

“Well it makes you sound like a child, but since you’re acting like one right now, it’s fitting. We both knew I wasn’t going to be there tonight,” Sean said as he buttoned his shirt and grabbed his jacket, “You just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.”

The truth of that statement stung. Bucky followed him into the living room, watched him tie his tie, and pull on his shoes and socks. “Sean…”

“Look, we have sex. It’s been fun, but that’s all it is, fun,” he said as he pulled open the door.  
“You don’t mean that,” Bucky replied, something cracking inside him.  
“I’m married. That’s all it can ever be,” he said. “I’m a _republican_ for fucks sake.”

He slammed the door behind him, and Bucky starred at it for a long time. He finally made his way over to the bar, and poured himself a drink. After two glasses, he started drinking right out of the bottle. He hadn’t cried this much in years. Just before 5 a.m. he crawled into bed. For some reason he couldn’t name, he sent a text message to Steve and passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the alarm went off, he rolled out of bed and poured them both a cup of coffee. He brought them both to the bedroom, and then took Peggy’s suitcase into the living room, leaving it next to the front door. “Almost ready,” he asked her as she stepped out of the bathroom and took the cup he held out for her.

“Yeah,” she said, “I just have to finish packing up my bathroom stuff.”

He nodded and grabbed a pair of jeans. As he pulled them on, he checked his cell phone. He had a text message from Bucky. He clicked the notification, and frowned. _They broke up?_ He checked the time the text message had been sent, 4:48. _Half hour?_

He selected the option for call back as he pulled on a shirt. Bucky’s voice was thick when he answered, whether it was from sleep or crying he couldn’t tell. “You okay?” he asked.

_‘I don’t know.’_  
“You want to talk about it?” He walked into the living room and put on his jacket.  
_‘I’m not sure what there is to talk about. Psht. He’s an asshole.’_

Bucky sounded brave, but he could hear him sniffling. He was still crying. As he was about to respond Peggy came into the room. “Who are you talking to,” she asked.

“Bucky.”  
“Bucky,” she asked, and there was something in her face he couldn’t place.

“Bucky,” he said into the phone, “I have to go. I’m taking Peggy to the airport now. How about lunch later?”

_‘Breakfast? I doubt I’m going to be able to sleep, and I should probably eat something.’_  
“Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you later,” he said, and hung up.

Peggy was watching him carefully, and he smiled. She smiled back. “Something going on,” she asked as he closed the door behind them.

There seemed to be more to that statement then she was willing to say. “Bucky and Sean broke up. He’s really upset.”

“That’s terrible,” she replied. “Is he going to be alright?”

“I don’t know,” he told her as he closed the trunk and held the cab door open for her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and when they got to the airport, he carried her bag for her as far as he could. He kissed her goodbye, and watched her go until she disappeared. Peggy worked for an Art Dealer, and was being sent to acquire several pieces in London. She was going to be gone for six weeks. They’d never been apart for so long before.

When he was back on the street, he called Bucky. Bucky wasn’t feeling up to going out, so he stopped at a bakery and picked up some fresh pastries. When Bucky opened the door, his face was red, puffy, and splotchy. He asked Bucky what happened, but he wasn’t ready to talk. Instead they ate pastries, drank coffee, and played for most of the day.

He wanted to keep Bucky’s mind off what happened, so he brought up the possibility of them working on an original composition together. Bucky was enthusiastic. He said he always wanted to give it a try, but never had someone with the right ear to work with. Steve felt the same way, and while he had originally meant it as a distraction, Bucky was the perfect partner.

A few weeks in, he was starting to regret his decision. He was spending nearly every free moment he had with Bucky. Bucky still hadn’t told him what happened between him and Sean, and there was a constant sadness in him that had never been there before.

He was finding it harder and harder to leave every night. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to hold him. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to kiss every bit of pale flesh from ankle to lips until Bucky was never sad again. He’d had to take a day away, afraid of how his feelings were progressing, and turned on the evening news.

_‘…Congressman Reeves how do you explain voting for a bill that you and your party swore you would block?’_

_‘Well politics is all about compromise, and thanks to compromise, 25 million impoverished children just got the Christmas gift they deserve. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s two children in Harrison who just asked Santa to bring their daddy home…’_

“Phony,” Steve said as he threw the remote at his TV. The guy was a piece of fucking work. He automatically grabbed his phone and called Bucky. He answered on the first ring. Before he could say anything, Bucky assured him he was fine, but he could hear it in his voice. “Ice Cream?” he asked, and Bucky laughed before saying yes. They agreed to meet at their usual diner, and he hung up.

On his way he told himself he was doing this for Bucky, but this was just as much for him. He missed Bucky even though he’d seen him less than 24-hours ago. He got there first, and as he waited, he checked his email, then sent an email to Peggy to check in.

When Bucky walked in, his heart immediately felt lighter. He did look like he was okay. He was clearly upset, but he wasn’t crying, and that, was a step forward. They both ordered ice cream sundaes. He got chocolate, and Bucky got strawberry. Bucky finally told him about what happened between him and Sean. Halfway thru the story, they traded sundaes. That had started a week ago. In a strange way, it was intimate.

By the time Bucky had finished he had nearly broken his fingers from clenching his fist so tight. He wasn’t a violent person, he stepped in when need be of course, but he had never gone out of his way to hurt someone before. Until now. He wanted to shatter Sean’s jaw so that he could never speak again.

Who told someone as rare and special as Bucky that he meant nothing? It was a lie, of course. He’d only known Bucky for four months, and he was already one of the most important people in his world. How Sean couldn’t have loved him after a year and a half was unfathomable.

He smiled at Bucky, and he smiled back. Bucky’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip, it was an unconscious habit, and electricity crackled between them. The air was charged with sexual tension. Bucky wanted him, and though he managed to keep it hidden, he wanted Bucky.

“I have to take off,” he said, “I need to get some sleep. See you at Well’s.” He tossed some money on the table to cover the bill and tip, and tried not to run out the door. He pressed his fingers to the tip of his erection and squeezed the minute he was outside.

He was playing with fire, and Bucky and Peggy were the ones that were going to end up burned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During their Wednesday night gig, they previewed their original piece. The audience’s response was 100% positive. Bucky was walking on air. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine being able to write his own music. Steve brought out something special in him. He’d never played better.

He hadn’t seen Sean in weeks, and found it left him feeling lighter than he had in years. All that lying and sneaking around… He hadn’t realized how much it was affecting him. The first time they’d slept together he hadn’t even been 20 yet. Sean had just landed a seat in congress and had been celebrating. Bucky had known he was in the closest, had spotted it right away, and while Sean was riding high, he’d made the first move.

He’d seen him sporadically after that, but it wasn’t until a year and a half ago, that it had become a regular thing. Sean had called it a relationship, but apparently, that hadn’t been the case. He’d called for awhile, leaving long drunk rambling apologies, but he’d never answered. Steve was right, he deserved more. He was always falling for guys who were emotionally unavailable. Steve was no different. Steve and Peggy would be getting engaged any day now.

New Years Eve was just around the corner, but he felt like celebrating their success. Clint had already left to go home to his family, and Tony had finally started seeing someone seriously, so they had disappeared almost immediately after the show. It was just him and Steve then. This was the standard more often than the rule. He was ashamed to admit it, but he preferred it this way.

He smiled when Steve came over and held up his coat for him, the guy was a freaking fantasy. He couldn’t be real, but he knew he was. “So where do you want to go to celebrate,” Steve asked as he zipped up his own jacket.  Bucky led the way. He had the perfect place. He wanted Steve all to himself. He shouldn’t, but he did.

He loved this bar. It was always quiet, and they made great drinks. Somehow he found himself leading Steve to the bar by the hand. He caught himself, and let go. The bartender knew him; he used to come in with Sean. His mile said he thought exactly what Bucky had been afraid of when he’d been holding Steve’s hand, that Steve was his boyfriend.

He settled in, and as was typical, found them pressed knee to knee as they lead towards each other. “So, what can I get you?”

Bucky smiled, “Tonight I’m treating you. What do you feel like?” Steve was so sweet. He could afford to buy this bar, but when they were together Steve insisted on paying for everything. It was like they were dating.

“I can’t let you do that, Bucky,” he said, “This is your night.”

“My night? This is our night, Steve. I didn’t write that music alone. Now, no arguments, what do you want to drink?”

“You pick,” he said. His smile was so shy that Bucky fell even harder.

He whispered to the bartender, and he disappeared, returning with a bottle of Blanton’s from the back room, leaving it for them. He pulled out two snifters, and Steve smiled. He obviously recognized the sentimentality in the gesture. “So what are we toasting to,” Steve asked as he poured them both a drink.

“How about _not_ epically failing tonight?” he replied.

Steve laughed, and Bucky turned around to address the bartender. He told him the bottle was all they’d need, thanked him, and signed their tab. “I like you.”

He whipped his head around to look at Steve. He was starring at the bar. It had been barely more than a whisper, and he knew it had been his imagination. _Wishful thinking._ When Steve looked up, something flared to life in his eyes.

“I like you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they rode up in the elevator, Steve watched the pulse in Bucky’s throat. It was strong and fast, and he imagined he could hear his heart racing. He wanted to know that Bucky was as aroused as he was. He needed it. He was ready to worship his body. Had been for weeks. Someone as exceptional as Bucky deserved to be revered.

He barely had the door closed before Bucky was in his arms. His kiss was thirsty, and he made a desperate noise in the back of his throat when Steve pressed him into the wall. He pulled back to watch Bucky’s face as he pulled down the zipper on his coat. As soon as he had finished pushing it off Bucky’s shoulders, their lips were together again.

Bucky worked at his zipper quickly, and he shook his arms to get his jacket off the rest of the way. He pulled at Bucky’s shirt, releasing it from his pants. They kicked off their shoes and Bucky’s hands found his hem, “Off,” he panted. Steve pulled his sweater over his head then watched Bucky slide the knot on his tie down, and unbutton his shirt. He took another kiss, his tongue demanding entrance, then used Bucky’s tie to lead him the rest of the way down the hallway.

He stopped briefly to turn on a light, and then pushed Bucky onto his bed. He looked down at Bucky and there was a look in his eyes he had never seen before, it made his breath hitch, and his heart pound. He gripped the bottom of his undershirt, and peeled it off the hard muscles beneath. Bucky watched him, wide-eyed, and his tongue slid out to wet his lower lip.

Steve gently pulled off Bucky's socks, and then took in his lithe form, starting at his silver toe ring, over silk clad calves and thighs, up his uncovered stomach and chest, then over the slightly pale skin of his graceful neck. He stopped and watched Bucky’s tongue sweep his lip again.

He grabbed Bucky’s left foot and pressed his fingers into the arch, rubbing his thumbs in small circles, and he groaned in appreciation. Lifting Bucky’s leg higher he moved his hands up to caress the pad of Bucky’s foot, while gently blowing across the arch. Bucky let loose a small moan and his body relaxed. Steve gently laid his leg back down, and then lifted the other intent on giving it the same treatment.

Once finished he moved up the bed and pushed the black button down off Bucky’s shoulders. He ran his fingers lightly over the skin he had craved to touch for so long, starting at the neck, and then down the inside of each arm. “Turn over,” he requested, and Bucky rolled over onto his stomach.

He straddled Bucky’s hips, and slowly worked his palms into Bucky’s back starting at the small; he worked all the knots into nothingness. Every sound conjured from the back of Bucky’s throat strained his self control, his arousal pressing against his zipper painfully. When he reached shoulders he leaned forward and kneaded the tension away, his breath feathering across Bucky’s neck. His clothed erection rubbed against Bucky’s ass, and he let out a small whimper.

Steve stood up and Bucky rolled over and rested on his back. Steve hovered over him for a second before taking his lips in a kiss. His tongue slipped in, granted entrance by a sigh. His tongue caressed Bucky’s, stroking and exploring. Bucky threaded his hand into Steve’s hair. Pushing them closer with a hand on the back of Steve’s head, he deepened the kiss further.

Steve pulled back, his hands moved down Bucky’s chest and stomach, stopping at the top of his pants. He looked up and received a nod of approval. He unbuttoned them, and slid the zipper down as slowly as possible. Sliding the backs of his fingers across the skin he revealed. He moved his hands to Bucky’s hips, and pulled his pants off, setting his erection free.

He moved back up Bucky’s naked form stopping to nibble and lick the backs of his knees and the inside of both thighs. From there he focused on his hips, suckling the pale salty skin. He kissed Bucky once more, and then began his slow decent, lips, teeth, and tongue tasting skin as he went. He stopped to tease each nipple, and Bucky writhed beneath him, as teeth coaxed them into pebbles.

Fingertips and lips blazed a trail down pale skin before finally taking Bucky’s swollen erection within their limits. Bucky let loose an appreciative whimper as a tongue played across his tip. Steve engulfed his length, then slid back up, tongue running along the sensitive underside as he went. When he reached the tip his tongue dipped into Bucky’s slit.

Bucky moaned pleadingly as his fingers curled into Steve’s hair. He sucked the tip of Bucky’s erection in and out of mouth quickly several times before finally swallowing him whole. His head moved up and down sucking, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin, and was rewarded with a gasp. One hand moved to fondle Bucky’s balls, while his tongue worked its magic.

Bucky’s breath was coming in strangled gasps, his hips snapped up and down. Steve took this chance to take Bucky into the back of his throat. Bucky’s hand tightened in his hair, and a low whimper escaped his lips. He felt the balls in his hand tighten and he hummed over the tip of Bucky’s erection. With a loud cry Bucky came undone, spilling into an eagerly waiting mouth.

Bucky’s body collapsed on the bed, sweaty and sated. His eyes slid closed, and two lips found his own. A tongue pressed against his lip begging entrance, once granted it slithered in and caressed, coaxing Bucky’s tongue out to play. Their tongues dueled briefly, then he pulled back to gaze down at Bucky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky opened his eyes, and his breath left him…

Steve was hovering over him, eyes glazed with desire, lips swollen from their kiss. Steve settled himself more closely against him, and he could feel his erection against his thigh.

Bucky tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, and pulled him down for a kiss. His hands moved down the slender neck, fingernails trailed down a well muscled chest, and then nimble fingers undid Steve’s belt, button, and fly.  Bucky stroked his erection from hilt to tip. His second hand slid down, and caressed Steve’s sensitive slit.

Steve groaned and grabbed Bucky’s wrist. “If I’m going to cum, I want to do it inside you, when your heart is racing, your knees are shaking, and you’ve been completely undone by need, and your body spent,” he said.

_Wow… uhhh…_ Bucky thought as a shudder ran through his body from head to toe. He didn’t know what to say to that. He never would have pegged Steve as someone who talked dirty in bed, but people can, and often do, surprise you. Truthfully, there was _nothing_ he found sexier then a man who talked in bed.  Steve stood, and he watched the hard muscles of his stomach flex as Steve pulled off his belt, and slid his jeans down his legs at an agonizingly slow pace.

When Steve’s naked form settled between his legs, his heart started to race. He looked up into indigo eyes, and saw nothing but desire. Steve kissed him again, a kiss full of yearning and need. It was hungry, fierce, and blistering in its intensity. When they were forced to break their kiss for precious air Steve caressed his skin reverently, almost as if he might fade away.

Steve reached into the nightstand, pulled out a tube of lube, and coated his fingers. He relaxed his breathing and his muscles. He arched off the bed when Steve took his half mast erection into his mouth, as his fingers pushed inside, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His entire body shook as fingers brushed his prostate. He moaned as those fingers continued to prod.

Steve took a moment to roll on a condom, and coat it with lube, his other hand feathering over Bucky’s skin gently. “Get on your hands and knees,” he requested. He got on his hands and knees, and Steve moved in behind him, one hand on Bucky’s hip, the other positioning his erection at Bucky’s entrance. He ran his tongue along Bucky’s spine then stroked his back lovingly.

Bucky took a deep breath and pushed out. Steve pushed inside; stopping once his head was just past the pucker. Steve gave him a minute to adjust, and then slid all the way in. Bucky rocked his hips back and Steve groaned. He pushed back again, and Steve matched his thrust. Steve started slow, letting the pressure build.

Steve moved his other hand to Bucky’s hip, and deepened his thrusts, angling his hips to reach Bucky’s prostate with every stroke. His hips pistoned in and out, and Bucky’s hands tore at the sheets, as he pushed back to meet each stroke. His cries for more, deeper, and harder, fading into a mindless string of moans and whimpers. Bucky’s heart was racing, and his thighs shook with the effort of holding himself up.

Steve gripped him by his hair, pulled him flush against his chest. One hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in opposite time to his thrusts, the other holding him tightly across his chest. “God Bucky… I wish you could see what I see. Watch me slide in and out of you. Feel what I feel. So you know how tight and hot you are. I have been fantasizing about what it would be like to be inside you. Now that I am… I want to touch you so deep, that no one will ever affect you the way I have,” he whispered.

With that Bucky came undone, screaming as he came violently. His muscles clenched, drawing Steve in, and teeth sunk into his shoulder. He felt the heat of Steve’s release, even through the condom, as Steve continued to thrust.

They both fell to the bed sweaty, sated, and exhausted. Steve pulled Bucky against his chest, so they were spooning, and held him there. Steve quickly fell asleep, his slow even breaths fluttering across Bucky’s sensitive skin, making it tickle.

It would be far too easy to get used to this.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**  
_**Three Months Later…** _

Steve watched Peggy as she crossed the street in front of him. On the other side, she put her arm through his, as they strolled through the city. They had just finished dinner at a Thai place they had never been to, and decided to walk home. It seemed that winter was almost over.

A pink glowing sign caught Peggy’s attention, and she dragged him over. “Can we, please?” she asked, and he laughed.

“You really want to see a psychic? It’s a scam,” he replied and laughed again.  
“It will be fun. Please,” she begged.  
“Alright,” he said. Lately, he found he could deny her nothing.

As they started towards the stairs, the door opened and an old man stepped out. “Are you the psychic,” she asked.

“I am,” he said, “Come in.” They followed him down the stairs, and into a dated apartment. He took a seat on a chair, and waved them over to a floral couch. They both sat, and as he made himself comfortable, Peggy asked, “Don’t you need tarot cards, or a crystal ball, or something?”

“I used to use those things in the beginning. My wife thought it would make people feel more comfortable. Meet their preconceived conceptions about what a psychic is. I stopped using them a long time ago,” he said, and she nodded. “I’ll start with you,” he said, pointing at Steve.

Steve shook his head, “Tonight is for her.”

Peggy pulled her phone from her pocket, looked at the screen and said, “Go ahead,” to the psychic, “I have to take this.”

She disappeared into the other room, and the old man starred at him for a long time. “Lots I can see you don’t want her to know son.” Steve’s head whipped up. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything in front of her. That’s not my place. You’re at your third crossroad. This is the biggest.”

“What’s going to happen?” he asked. He wanted more details, he still wasn’t sure if he believed. If he could really see the future, this was a huge opportunity.

“Both paths will lead you to a happy future, albeit happy in different ways.” The old man reached out and poured him a cup of tea. “She is aware of your interests, you’ve never hidden it from her,” he said as he handed him the cup. “She’s also aware that you have feelings for _him_ ,” he said, and Steve choked on his tea.

 _Holy fuck_ , he thought. _This guy_ is _for real._

The old man handed him a napkin, and said, “She isn’t aware of how far it’s progressed.”

“What do I do?” he asked. He hadn’t had anyone to talk about any of this with since it started, and the guilt was starting to eat away at him. He felt like he was in love with them both, but if he really loved Peggy could he have fallen in love with Bucky? And if he really loved Bucky, wouldn’t he be giving him everything, instead of half?

It was a fucked up mess…

His best friends just wouldn’t be any help. While they both knew he had dated men before, Tony wouldn’t understand how deep his feelings ran. Clint, on the other hand, was so devoted to his wife he would think he was a piece of shit for cheating on Peggy.

“That’s up to you, son. I can’t tell you the right thing to do,” he replied. “What I can tell you is that you are standing on the precipice of a very high cliff. If you don’t act soon, you will fall, and you will lose everything.”

“I’ve tried,” Steve said. “Believe me. I… I just…” He tried to say more, but Peggy came back into the room. Her face was unhappy, and for a moment he was worried that she had overheard their conversation. “Something wrong?”

“They need me to go to the gallery,” she said.  
“Now? It’s almost 9 o’clock,” he replied. “Do you want me to go with you?”  
“No. I think I’ll be alright. I’ll take a cab with Natasha on the way back,” she said.

They shook the old man’s hand, and he ushered them out. Steve flagged a cab down for her, kissed her goodbye, tucked her inside, and watched her drive away. He watched the pink sign go out, and looked at the hours sign for the first time. It said his hours were 10 to 6, and he wondered if the old man had stayed open specifically for him.

He should go home, but he _wanted_ to go somewhere else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky was sitting where he always sat when he was feeling confused. His fingers stroked over the keys of his piano as he played endlessly. It wasn’t a song, just notes that were his feelings. His phone rang, and he wandered over to the coffee table.

“Hey you,” he said, and plopped down on the couch.  
_‘How are you?’_  
“I’m alright. Sort of dreading the fund raiser tomorrow,” he replied.  
_‘It won’t be so bad. You haven’t seen your mom in almost two months. You miss her.’_

“Alright… Maybe it’s not the end of the world,” he replied. Steve was right. He did miss her, and despite the fact that she was a complete and total control freak, he loved her. He hadn’t mentioned that Sean would be there. He was anxious about having to see him. “So what did you do tonight?”

_‘I went to see a psychic.’_

“No way,” he replied. He couldn’t picture someone as grounded as Steve spontaneously stopping at a psychic. It had to have been Peggy’s idea, and he felt a stone start to form in his stomach.

 _‘Seriously and this guy was for real.’_  
“That’s impossible,” Bucky said with a laugh.  
_‘No. He knew… things… things about me no one else knows but you.’_  
He knew what that meant. “Wow. That’s… I don’t know what to say,” he said.  
_‘Can I come by?’_

Bucky debated it briefly, even though he had decided before Steve had even finished his question, “Sure,” he said.

When he hung up he went to take a quick shower. He was digging himself deeper and deeper. After Sean he had promised himself he’d never find himself in this situation again. Steve was different though. Steve genuinely cared about him. It had been easy, too easy, the transition from friends to lovers. Steve had already become his best friend. When they were together, the build-up, the passion, they could melt paint off the walls.

As he finished pulling on a pair of pajama pants, there was a quiet knock on the door. He let Steve in, and as he closed the door behind him, he was wrapped in strong arms and pressed into the door. Steve ran a thumb across his cheek and then across his bottom lip, his other hand pushing his hair out of his eyes. He moved in so slowly, he thought their lips would never meet. Then they did. Steve’s tongue pressed gently at his bottom lip, and he opened for him. It was slow and tender, and when Steve finally pulled away, his knees were weak.

“Hey,” Steve whispered.  
“I…” Bucky cleared his throat, licked his lip, and tried again, “I missed you too.”

Steve looked over his face and smiled. He took his hand, and led him to the couch. He pushed Bucky down gently, and took of his coat. He was still feeling disoriented. Steve’s kiss always left him this way. He watched as Steve moved around the room. He lit a few candles, turned off the lights and tv, and turned on the stereo. Billie Holiday. It was always Jazz. He rarely listened to anything else.

When Steve came back he watched him closely. Things had never started out sexually between them before. It was more a natural progression of being in each other’s presence, then anything. He was concerned. This wasn’t the way he had foreseen things progressing between them in the long term. It reminded him too much of Sean.

Steve held out a hand, and helped him to his feet. He laid down on the couch, and pulled Bucky down on top of him. He was about to put a hold on things, but Steve just wrapped an arm and a leg around him, pressed a kiss to his forehead and started running fingers through his hair. He nestled into Steve’s chest, and laughed when he heard a contented sigh.

Steve never ceased to amaze him. Every time he started to doubt, Steve did things like this. He would bring him a small extremely sentimental gift for no reason, or arrange a surprise just to pamper him. Steve went out of his way to make him feel special, and not just special, but adored. No man had ever made him feel so cherished, and that’s what kept him awake at night.

What did that say about him?

He was jostled awake by Steve moving around underneath him. “Hello.” Bucky almost replied until he realized he was talking into his phone. “Yeah. Everything go okay?” He sat up so that Steve could sit up, and moved to the far end of the couch. Steve entwined their fingers, and kissed the top of his hand. “I’m at Bucky’s.”

He watched Steve’s face closely as he listened. “Just thought I’d get some work done. I didn’t know how long you’d be at the gallery,” he said. “Yeah. Yeah. Sure,” he replied and stood up. Bucky checked the time. Almost 1a.m. “I’m on my way now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Bucky watched him put on his coat, “I love you too,” he said, and Bucky felt that knot in his stomach start to form again. Steve hung up, and walked over to him. Steve helped him up, and led him to the door. Steve kissed the breath from his body and every worry from his mind. He left a gentle kiss on his forehead, and said, “I’ll see you Friday.”

Bucky watched him until he was on the elevator, and closed the door with a sigh. He was completely and totally fucked. He was madly head over heels in love with Steve Rogers. The deaf dumb and blind kind.

He couldn’t afford to be any of those things anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How was the fundraiser,” he asked Bucky as they pressed into the bar. It was packed, and he had an arm wrapped around Bucky’s waist so they wouldn’t get pushed apart by the crowd. Bucky’s face said it all. He put a finger under his chin and pushed his face up. “None of that,” he said, “What happened?”

“Sean was there.” He starred at Bucky, but he couldn’t hear a word he was saying. It was like drums banging in his head. Hadn’t they moved passed this? The idea that Bucky might still have feelings for Sean made his stomach churn. “And he asked if he could come by sometime. I told him I didn’t know,” Bucky finished.

“You don’t know?” Steve asked, and grit his teeth.

“I _don’t_ know,” Bucky said, his tone biting, “I’ve know Sean for almost seven years. It’s not that easy to just write him off completely.”

“You know why he wants to come over, Bucky,” he replied.  
“I do. And?” he asked.

Before he could reply, the bartender came over, and Bucky turned around to order. Before he knew what he was doing, he was already heading for the door. Bucky caught up with him just as he raised his hand to wave down a cab.

“What’s your problem,” he asked.

“What’s my problem? My problem is that you don’t care that that piece of shit just wants to fuck you. Don’t you want to be more than that?” Bucky shook his head in aggravation, and he felt himself bristle. “You’re worth more than that. Why do you keep letting him fuck with you?”

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky screamed, “You fuck with me more than anybody!”  
“That’s bullshit! You know that’s bullshit,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Bucky said, and he reached for his arm. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he said as he pulled his arm out of reach. Security started to make their way over, but Bucky waved them off. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he said, and disappeared into the bar.

He stood there for he didn’t know how long wondering how it had all gone so far downhill so fast. He raised his arm to hail a cab, but decided to walk instead. He was too heated and needed to walk it off. Bucky was right, of course. He had no right to tell him he couldn’t see other people. It was hypocritical, and while the idea of anybody else touching Bucky made him feel sick, he was well within his rights to do what he wanted with whoever he wanted.

But Sean? Sean?! Sean wasn’t worthy of licking the salt off Bucky’s shoes. He wanted to believe that everything would be fine. That it would all work out, but there had been a finality there, floating in the air. He thought back to the old man, and knew his warning had been genuine. He just hadn’t realized how soon it would come to pass. It had never been harder to go home.

 _Ten more minutes. Fuck_ , he thought as he checked his phone again. Yes, his fight with Bucky had been bad, but he didn’t think it so earth shattering that Bucky would blow off a gig. They were all professionals. He started heading for the stage, and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed Bucky pushing his way through the crowd, phone pressed to his ear, and sheets in hand.

As Bucky approached the stage, he hung up, and handed sheets to both Tony and Clint. He moved toward Steve more slowly, hesitant, eyes turned down. When Steve caught his eye, he smiled, but Bucky didn’t return the gesture. Bucky pushed the sheet into his hand and back-pedaled so fast he almost tripped over the piano bench.

He looked down at the list and frowned. Every single song for this set was heartbreaking and emotional. Bucky played straight from his soul. This list was what he was feeling on paper. Steve felt his heart clinch. Bucky was hurting, and he was the reason. How could he claim he was any better than Sean?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t wait for his share of the tips. He didn’t need the money. He was out the door no more than 5 minutes after their set ended. Steve caught up with him in the foyer. Before Steve could even begin he cut him off. “What do you want, Steve?” He tried to add as much snarl into the question as he could muster. He had just spent 16 hours crying, and another four hours debating showing up tonight. He had nothing left.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” he said, and lifted a hand towards Bucky’s face.

He watched Steve’s hand with both fear and anticipation. Steve seemed to think better of it, and it fell back to his side. Bucky gave an inaudible sigh of relief. He felt like someone had taken his heart and beat it into mush with a hammer. “I’m fine,” he replied.

He wanted to bawl. He wanted to scream. He wanted to fight…

But he _couldn’t_ do any of those things. He watched Steve search his face, his eyes melancholy, and he just… couldn’t. “I have to go. I have plans,” he said, as he pushed the door open, “I’ll see you Monday night.”

It had never been harder to go home to an empty house. For five minutes he wished he could be a good time party boy, and just go pick somebody up, but that wasn’t who he was. Never had been, never would be. He called David, and made plans to drink too much wine and eat ice cream when his shift was over.

After their set was over on Monday, he snuck out the back. He just wasn’t ready to talk to Steve. He understood everything now. He had never been in love with Sean. This, this felt like his lungs would never breathe again, and he would cry at the most inopportune times. He had been sad when he had broken up with Sean, but that had been more about him.

He was ashamed he hadn’t seen through Sean earlier. David had warned him over and over. He had been foolish enough to believe that Sean loved him, and losing that had hurt. Before Sean it had been years since his last long-term relationship, and he had started to believe that there was something wrong with him. Men always accused him of not being present in the relationship. Said he didn’t care, because he was so devoted to his music, but he cared too much. Always.

When his phone rang, he was afraid to check the screen. Steve had texted him twice every day to ask him how he was. He never answered, and it made him feel terrible. He knew it had to be killing Steve. He was too nice of a guy for it to not bother him.

And that… that was the problem.

Steve had never _meant_ to hurt him. Quite the opposite in fact. He had gone out of his way to make sure that even though he was second he always _felt_ first. No man had ever been so attentive or tender with him. He had to separate them. Not just for him, but for Steve. Save him from having to choose between them, he told himself over and over. In truth, he was a coward, and was terrified Steve wouldn’t pick him.

Self preservation was a bitch.

But love… love was agony.

Sean started trying to come around again, and eventually he allowed it because he was lonely. He was surprised to find that Sean had no interest in having sex with him. Normally he pounced the second he walked in the door, but instead he had showed up with a bottle of Bucky’s favorite champagne and a box of his favorite truffles. You could only get both on special order from Europe.

“I love listening to you play,” Sean said from the couch.

He watched Sean like a hawk as he removed his jacket and wandered over. Bucky slid to the farthest end of the bench. He had no intention of allowing anything to happen. Sean made himself comfortable, and tried to take his hand, but he pulled away.

“Bucky,” he said, and it was barely more than a whisper, “I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I feel like some bad cliché. You don’t know what you got until it’s gone.” Sean took his hand and kissed his palm gently. “I realized something while we were apart.”

Sean seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t have anything to say. “I’m ready to come out publically and leave my wife.”

Bucky forgot himself for a moment and his breath hitched audibly, but he caught himself, “Sean, I’ve heard it before. No more games, okay?”

“No. That’s not what this is,” he insisted, “Whatever you need me to do to prove how serious I am, just say the word. I didn’t know what love at first sight was… until you.”

“Sean…” he began, but before he could continue his eyes landed on his phone. He knew what he would see if he unlocked the screen. It was what he wanted every day for the rest of his life. “Sean, if you’re gonna come out, you should do it for you, not me. I’m sorry. I think you should go.”

After he walked Sean out, he went back to his phone. The background was a picture of him and Steve from one of those stupid photo booths. Steve had surprised him with a trip to the arcade because he had mentioned, in passing, how much he had loved DDR when he was a teenager. For a musician, Steve had no rhythm, but his willingness to make a total fool of himself in front of a bunch of teenagers, just to make him smile was what had mattered.

He typed out a quick message, and curled up on his couch with a glass of wine. He turned on some Nina Simone and just let himself breathe for the first time in what felt like years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He rolled over in bed and slammed his hand down on the alarm clock. He starred at the ceiling before rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his forearm. He sat up slowly, careful not to jostle his head too much. Holy hangover Batman. He wasn’t looking forward to a day of lessons.

He _needed_ coffee.

He went into the kitchen and was surprised to find the pot empty. He opened the top and realized he forgot to set it the night before. It was something Peggy had done. He added a filter, coffee, and water. He started the brew, and made his way into the bedroom to take a shower.

He hadn’t expected the change to be easy. They’d lived together for two years, and had practically lived together the year before that. But he had never anticipated how difficult it would be. There were so many things she had done to make his daily life simpler, easier. He was level-headed, but absent-minded. It was his creative side. It was too easy for him to get lost in his music.

After toweling off, he wrapped the towel around his waist. The counter looked empty without all her hair and makeup products everywhere. He missed her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t, but he was _in_ love with someone else. She was his most cherished friend, and he did love her, but not in the way she wanted or deserved. He could have been happy with her, but it wouldn’t have been fair to her.

He filled his travel mug and headed to his first lesson of the day, locking the door behind him, and sliding his sunglasses over his eyes before he stepped out into the sun. He had told her everything. A lie by omission was still a lie. While she had never thought he would cheat on her, too honest, she had said she wasn’t surprised. Even though the psychic had said she knew he had feelings for Bucky, it was still a shock to hear it directly from her.

She said she knew the first night, the night they had met Bucky, that it was a possibility. That had given him pause. When she had walked up next to him, and watched him watching Bucky play, it had been written all over his face. Love at first sight. Bucky had clearly been just as enamored as he was, she said. She had hoped that she was wrong. That what they had was strong enough to survive an immediate connection so deep. He was fortunate that she had forgiven him.

He boarded the subway, chose one of only two empty seats, and pulled out his phone. He hadn’t charged it last night. Too drunk to remember apparently… He had a text message. He held his breath. Was there any point? He wanted to hope, but Bucky hadn’t responded to any of his messages in two weeks.

He continued to message him anyway, asking if he was alright. Once around the time Bucky usually woke up, and once before bed. He didn’t want to be a nuisance, but he needed Bucky to know that he cared. Even if Bucky didn’t want to know. He debated for a few seconds, and then unlocked the screen.

_‘After Sean, I swore that I’d never find myself in the same situation again. Then you come along... I’m in love with someone who’s in love with someone else. I’m not going to be alright for a long time. You need to let me breathe.’_

Suddenly Steve was feeling like a million bucks. He made it through the whole day with extra pep in his step. Hangover be damned. Yes, Bucky had let him know he needed to stay away, but he also said he was in love with him. That’s all that mattered.

It meant there was hope.

Steve shaved his beard and carefully styled his hair. He looked much younger like this, but it was necessary, it was symbolic. He was hoping tonight would be the first night of the rest of his life. Tuesday night’s Bucky usually went to Louie Lounge, the bar he had taken him to the night they had first slept together. The DJ on Tuesdays was a long time friend of his.

He spotted Bucky easily. He was like a beacon. He could probably find him in a room filled with hundreds of people with his eyes closed by feeling alone. Bucky’s face when he saw him was shocked, then shy. He didn’t seem to know what to feel, so instead he turned his cerulean eyes down, and pretended he hadn’t seen him.

He almost turned around, but Bucky didn’t try to move or leave, so he took it for what it was. Not an invitation, but an acceptance of his presence. He weaved through the crowd, and when he was standing in front of Bucky, he couldn’t speak. Bucky’s eyes punched the air out of his lungs every time.

He watched Bucky carefully trying to figure out if he would be receptive to anything he wanted to say. He could talk until he laid down every single thing he’d felt since the day they met, but if Bucky wasn’t ready to listen, then he’d be doing it in vein. Bucky seemed to be holding his breath, so he dove in head first. Why the hell not?

“I was an asshole,” he said with a sigh, “I should have done so many things differently, I know. I just…” He couldn’t find the right words.

“You were an asshole. You weren’t trying to be, but yeah, you were,” he said, and took a sip from his drink. “So why are you here, Steve?”

“Because I’m in love with you too,” he replied. “Peggy knows, and I want the rest of the world to know too. And if you’ll have me, I’ll spend every day showing you how much.” Bucky’s face didn’t change at all. Not in the lips or eyes, both of which he was always overly expressive with.

He was starting to feel uncomfortable. They had been starring at each other for several long minutes, and he couldn’t help burying his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet. He watched his chucks slide over the cement floor.

His head whipped up when Bucky cleared his throat. “I have two conditions,” he said.  
“Anything,” he replied.  
“One, you never make me feel that way again, ever,” he said, his face deadly serious.  
“Done. What’s number two?” he asked.

“I want your beard back,” he said, and Steve laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, you look so hot right now, but I love the beard. Especially how it feels on my skin,” he finished quietly.

He smiled softly when Bucky caressed his bald cheek. He’d never seen Steve clean-shaven before, and his eyes were full of wonder. “You look so young,” he said.  He took Bucky’s hand, entwined their fingers, and kissed the back of Bucky’s hand gently.

Bucky curled into his side and whispered, “Take me home?”


	5. Epilogue: I Was Lost Without You

**Epilogue: I Was Lost Without You**  
_**One Year Later…** _

“Seriously?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow and a sparkle in his eye.  
“Yes, seriously,” he replied.

“Oh my god!” Bucky shrieked and started spinning around the room. Steve smiled as he watched him. His zest and passion for everything was what he loved most about Bucky. He could get lost in his excitement, and when he took you with him, you were transported to another dimension.

“So… I take it that’s a ‘yes’ then?” Steve asked.  
“What?” Bucky asked as he stopped mid fist pump.  
“I said, ‘I take it that’s a yes then’,” Steve replied with a laugh.

“Huh,” Bucky said, with confusion in his eyes. Steve gave him a minute to think about it and could see the moment of clarity. “Of course it’s a ‘yes’. Are you crazy?”

Bucky gave another twirl as he went out the bedroom door. “It’s going to be amazing,” he said as he did another spin, and disappeared around the corner.

Steve watched him go with a smile. Bucky had apparently just put himself in charge. He was right. It would be incredible. Everything planned to perfection down to the most minute detail.

 _How the hell did I get so lucky_ , he marveled.

He wandered over to the closest to pick out something to wear for their gig tonight. A year ago, he was sure he had lost everything. He’d said it before and he’d say it again, Bucky was like no one he’d ever met. Somehow he had found it in his heart to forgive him.

Not the kind of forgiveness where people say they forgive you, but in the back of their mind, they think about it once a day. Not the kind of forgiveness reflected in their eyes every time you look at them and can see that they are waiting for you to let them down again. It was real and it was pure.

From the moment Bucky accepted his apology, he had embraced him and their life together, with as much passion as he did his music. Steve had elevated himself to a new place, with every intention of always being worthy of the second chance he’d been given. Tony had told him he was crazy, and that he was making a huge mistake, but they’d bought a house and moved in together right away. Was if fast? Yes. He didn’t care.

When you know… you know.

He’d always known. He was certain of that now. Hearing those first notes of ‘I Do It For Your Love’ by Bill Evans being played as the heart meant it to be felt, had piqued his interest. Watching Bucky’s hands caress the keys when he finally laid eyes on him, had enthralled him. But when he had turned around to bow, and his face was filled with the kind of joy only another musician could understand, he was lost.

Bucky was… _incomparable_. He was the kind of exceptional that you only see in movies and read about in books because it can’t possibly exist in the real world. Eyes a shade of blue you’d never see anywhere else. A sly smile made perfect by its subtle imperfections. A purity of heart belonging only to the noblest knights who slayed the most fearsome dragons.

From the first time they played together, there was a tie that bound them, and the audience could feel it. They made magic. Their show was the most popular in the city. The bar was always packed, and the tips jar overflowing. When he was playing with Bucky his music came from a place he could never reach on his own. He’d never played better. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Bucky’s playing had evolved too. They brought out something rare in each other.

“You ready?” Bucky asked with a smile as he walked into the living room.

“Yeah,” he replied, and Bucky handed him his trumpet after he put on his jacket. He slung it over his head and held the front door open for Bucky. He locked it behind them, and hand-in-hand they headed for the subway, Bucky’s head on his shoulder.

It was a privilege to play with him. It was a privilege to know him. It was a privilege to wake up next to him every morning, and to worship his body every night. It was an honor to love him. It was a blessing he was thankful for every day, to be loved by him in return.

And he had a lifetime left, because with all the enthusiasm of an eight year old on Christmas morning, Bucky…

…had just agreed to marry him.


End file.
